


It wasn't supposed to be like this

by justsortofexisting



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester - Freeform, Dean in Denial, Depressed Dean, Destiel - Freeform, Drinking, Emotional, Hunting, Hurt Dean Winchester, I'M NOT CRYING YOU ARE, M/M, No seriously cas better not be dead, Profound Bond, Protective Sam Winchester, Romance, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Suicidal Thoughts, castiel novak - Freeform, deadcastiel, dean/cas - Freeform, depresseddean, fatesucks, fluff?, i will fight the writers, idontknowhowtotag, s12finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 01:17:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11197413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justsortofexisting/pseuds/justsortofexisting
Summary: After Lucifer kills Castiel, Dean is left to confront his feelings towards the angel in a spiral of misery that this time he can't get out of- despite his and Sam's futile attempts.(This is a continuation from the s12 finale although I'm praying that Cas is not dead in any shape or form).





	It wasn't supposed to be like this

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Although, in his experience, it wasn’t the most surprising thing- that once everything in his life was perfect, fate would intervene and snatch it away. Lucifer was alive- his mother with him trapped in a hell hole of an alternate dimension with a very dead former King of Hell whose mother even more conveniently was dead in this universe. But as Dean shakily touched the cold body that lay in front of him surrounded by a silhouette of wings engraved into the ground, he knew that nothing could compare to the sinking feeling in his heart right now; that even though things weren’t supposed to be like this they always were; and he didn’t think he could take it anymore. 

Grief has many stages but Dean had mastered Denial to the finest of points. There had to be a way to bring him back, right? How many times had they stared death in the face? (quite literally on some occasions)- this couldn’t possibly be the end he had never told him- always thought he had enough time because it's Cas, he always comes back. Always.  
Dean looked up at the sky and prayed to God, to Amara to any damn angel that would listen that he needed help- that Cas had to be brought back to life- whispered prayers became screams and shouts before Sam rushed out of the house, with the Nephilim nowhere in sight, to calm a frantic hysterical Dean. When the tears could flow no more and a numbness possessed Dean’s body they had arrived back to the bunker where Dean lay Cas in his room with whispered promises to bring him back before beginning his search- for something -anything that could bring him back. They stayed until the sky flecked shades of red, looking for an answer they knew they wouldn’t find no matter how many times they looked. 

They burned his body the next day, after all, he deserved a hunter’s funeral- he had died a hero. A selflessly, overly loving idiot of a hero. As the flames licked their way across Cas’s body Dean couldn’t help think how the roles had been severely reversed. Cas was the constant in their life, always had been- after all he’s a friggen angel. It didn’t feel right to Dean, but neither did letting his corpse residue in cas’s room.  
He couldn’t help but think where he had gone. Cas wasn’t a normal angel- his route was much more complicated, he couldn’t go to hell or heaven, would he just disappear? Without a trace of his existence except for the fleeting memories that Dean desperately clung to? It didn’t matter if no one else remembered him, they would never forget him and the sacrifices he made for them- for what he believed was right, even if it did kill him in the end. 

Then he started drinking- stumbling home intoxicated enough to pass out in the early hours of dawn; breaking anything he could because it hurt and maybe the physical pain would numb the ache he was feeling.  
It didn’t of course.  
Sleep was scarce, because whenever Dean closed his eyes the fleeting images of Lucifer stabbing Castiel would come back to him, the light leaving his ocean blue eyes replaced with the smirk of a devil who had taken everything he loved- and damaged and destroyed it. 

Sam tried to coax him to eat and drink something of substance but Dean couldn’t even look at food without wanting to puke. Why should he get to enjoy the simplistic pleasures in life when the one thing he needed he had always had but had never appreciated the way that he had wanted to. Sure he had made him a mixed tape, which he had fished out from his pocket but the gift held connotations only someone as oblivious as Cas would not be able to comprehend- after all how could he? Human emotion and relationships were so new to him; Dean didn’t even know what he was doing how could Cas? But Dean missed everything about him. It wasn’t just the confused face and titled head he made when he didn’t understand a reference or his ability to go off on the most unwanted tangent about anything but that he saw beauty in everything- his innocent and naïve hope that humanity is still worth saving despite having been hardened by the reality of the bitter cold world. No, he saw a beauty in Dean that no one else had- after all he had built him piece by piece, seen every part of him, knew every part of him- wanted to. No one else besides Sam had managed to weave their way into his heart (and live), and after the pain that Dean felt he wasn’t about to let anyone else in ever again. 

They say time heals the worst of wounds but the scars never really leave one behind and remain a brutal and unwanted remainder anyhow. For Dean, the only way to ‘move on’ per say was to throw himself back into hunting. With Crowley dead and Lucifer otherwise occupied, a power hungry surge had swept the demons who were now more active than ever forming and serving new alliances. Initially, Sam had thought it to be a great idea- after all Winchesters has a tendency to get their head back in the game and bottle up emotions, it was rather normal at this point- but this wasn’t a just any situation; because you can keep fixing something broken until it becomes beyond repair- and Dean? He could never be healed again. Dean became more and more reckless, diving head first into any situation without a moment's hesitation, thought or planning. Every case was just an excuse to release the anger boiling inside and kill after kill it became clear that he was on the brink of insanity- Sam being the only anchor he had left. After a particularly bad hunt, Sam tried to talk to Dean to at least try to get him to open up to him, it didn’t work of course but this was the fifth time Dean had almost gotten injured badly and Sam didn’t know what to do-

‘ARE YOU TRYING TO GET YOURSELF KILLED?’  
It was the first outburst Sam had had after the angel’s death, unfazed however Dean had continued to clean his guns before placing them on the table and replying,  
‘Would that be so bad?’.  
It hit Sam then what should have been obvious from the start but was confirmed the next night. 

The nightmares became less frequent over time, but when they came Dean would wake up in a pool of sweat, shaking and crying clinging onto anything that would ground him. This time his cries echoed the bunkers halls and Sam came rushing in trying to help him somehow- he found Dean shaking in the corner of Cas’s room arms wrapped around his legs tears streaming down his face, a photo stained with tears in his hand.  
‘I loved him Sammy… I loved him and I never even told him’  
Sam came closer, wrapping his brother in his arms knowing how it felt, knowing that the sinking feeling will never go away, knowing that no words can heal him now. It had been the same with Jess after all.  
It wasn’t supposed to be like this Sam thought, it wasn’t fair, not really. Hadn’t they given enough to the world to have their small happy ending? How much did they have to loose before it didn’t hurt anymore? It wasn’t fair.  
As for Sam, he didn’t just loose Castiel that night. He lost Dean too.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys!  
> So this is the first fic I've ever written so I have no clue what I'm doing (as you can probably tell by the tags)- I'd love to hear feedback and I want to improve so if you have any suggestions- I'm open to them! I've kind of left it on a depressing note with Cas dead dead but I'm desperately hoping that he isn't really: because damn I love that angel.  
> Till next time?  
> NN.


End file.
